A/N: Sorry for the long wait.
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His patrol tonight was anything but the usual. After having a long tedious fight with the Scarecrow resulting in the deranged scientist being dragged off by the cops, Batman found himself back in his cave just grasping the threads of reality. He had gotten a good lung full of the Fear Toxin and was now suffering from the effects, hallucinations. Stumbling from the Bat-mobile, Batman found himself face to face with a man from his nightmares. Yelping in surprise, Batman stumbled backwards falling on his butt where he proceeded to crabwalk backwards until he hit the side of the Bat-mobile. The man steadily walked up to him and he felt himself suddenly become an eight-year-old boy again. The next thing he knew he was screaming and crying for help.
Darrian heard the screams from behind the clock where he knew the lair was. He'd foregone clubbing after all, considering he had nothing to wear out, and had taken Bruce's advice instead, curling up on the couch to read Kafka. He started up when he heard screaming, and bolted down to the lair, finding Bruce and going over to him anxiously. "Bruce! Fuck, what's wrong mate, c'mon..."
Bruce, having ripped off his mask, looked up at Darrian with wide eyes.
His grip on reality had slipped away, "He's going to get me again, h-he's..." His swallowed hard, his voice timid and small like a child's.
Darrian, concerned, knelt down; worried that Bruce was having some kind of nervous breakdown. "Brucie, it's ok, calm down alright. No one's gonna hurt you okay. Come on... it's okay." He said, repeating the words, trying to calm Bruce down.
"Fear... Toxin..." Bruce gasped out trying to fight the hallucinations back, "Been poisoned... g-get..." His eyes widened at the memories flashing through his mind.
A belt covered in blood... He screamed having totally succumbed to the fear toxin.
Shit "Bruce!" Darrian gingerly held onto Bruce's shoulders, catching his gaze. "Brucie, listen. It's Darrian. Do you know where the antidote is." Come on Bruce,... just point or something... he thought, the sight of his friend so afraid making him distressed in turn.
"What's going on?" The dry voice of Alfred echoed softly in the cave as he came down the stone stairs, "Oh my." He gasped finding Darrian hovering over a terrified screaming Bruce.
Darrian turned fast. "Alfred, he said he's been poisoned..." Darrian said frantically. "I dunno what to do, can you help him at all?" He begged.
Alfred's eyes widened, "Poisoned? The Fear Toxin?"
Bruce turned his head towards him, tears running down his cheeks, "Alfred?" He squeaked.
"I'll go get the antidote." He said running over to a drawer by the computer.
After a moment he approached the two with the antidote and gave it to Bruce.
Darrian stood back and watched helplessly, fidgeting badly.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked Alfred plaintively.
"Master Bruce must have run into The Scarecrow again. He's been poisoned by a toxin that triggers a persons fears," Alfred watched as Bruce settled down falling into a deep sleep, "Would you help me carry Master Bruce upstairs?"
Darrian nodded and proceeded to do so, though it wasn't easy. When they got to the room, and Bruce was in bed, Darrian stroked his hair back gently and covered him over, then kissed his fingers and pressed them to Bruce's forehead before walking out and shutting the door behind him.
Bruce moaned tossing in his sleep; the antidote would take up to two days to work, not fast enough to stop the onrush of nightmares/memories surfacing in Bruce's brain. Gasping he fought his way through nightmare after nightmare...
A gunshot echoed throughout the streets drowning out the screams and cries of a young boy. Bruce knelt down in-between his mother and father, his knees soaked with blood.
"No!" He sobbed.
The image distorted and Bruce was sitting in a small dirty room with two other children staring up at a large man.
"Who wet the bed!" The man shouted at the children sitting on the only bed in the room.
None of them moved and the man began removing his belt. The little boy to Bruce's left lifted a shaky hand and pointed to Bruce, as did the other boy. Bruce looked up at the man in embarrassment then yelped in surprise as he was yanked out of the room by his hair.
Bruce screamed in his sleep unable to wake himself up.
Darrian sat on the floor by Bruce's bed, arm lying across Bruce, head resting on his arm. He fought sleep, not that it was hard, as Bruce's frequent screams kept jerking him awake. He'd been there for a few hours, having not been able to sleep the night before. He remembered Bruce screaming like this before, in nightmares and during delirium when he had fever when he was younger. He didn't want to know what Bruce was seeing in his head. He knew what it was like to relive the bad things from your past, and he also knew that Bruce had plenty of bad things to remember.
He remembered a time shortly after he locked Bruce in the bathroom when he found the young boy sitting atop a fence wall sobbing with a bottle of alcohol set beside him. Darrian had shaken his head when he saw the strong liquor, and had taken the bottle, taking a swig himself, before flinging it over the fence to crash on the other side…
He was quiet for a while, letting Bruce cry it out, waiting for him to start speaking when he felt the time was right.
Sniffing, Bruce looked down at Darrian with bloodshot eyes, "I hate them." He frowned wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
"Hate who?"
Bruce just stared down at him.
Darrian sighed. "Kid, c'mon. Since when can't you talk to me?" He edged around, shifting some gravel with the side of his boot. "You prefer hiding in the bottom of a bottle?"
"I don't want to talk about it." Bruce grumbled pulling his torn white t-shirt off.
Fresh black and blue bruises decorated his back and shoulders, some covering up old injuries and fading bruises.
Darrian raised an eyebrow, anger running through him, making a rushing sound in his ears. "Where the fuck did you get those from?"
Bruce shrugged staring ahead blankly.
Darrian sighed. "Brucie... I can't help you if you don't let me in. Come on, tell me. Who did that to you?"
Sighing heavily Bruce lowered his eyes to Darrian's, "I got into a fight with the high school kids that hang out around the porno shop."
"Over what?" Darrian asked, surprised. "How did you get mixed up with those kids?"
"The alcohol..." Bruce said slowly, "And I tried to steal a cigarette from one of their jackets..." He blushed slightly in embarrassment.
Darrian's face was blank. "Lemme get this right... you tried to steal from them... so they beat you up. Were was the alcohol involved?"
Bruce smirked slightly, "I stole it from them after I beat them up."
Darrian sat down, sliding to the floor with his back against the fence. "WHY?" He shook his head. "Yea, just.. why? What in the hell possessed you?" He asked, more confused than anything.
The smirk vanished, tears had sprung to his eyes again and he began to silently cry.
Darrian looked up when Bruce didn't answer. "Hey kid, don't cry." he said, standing up. "Look, it's okay, I'm not mad with you. Though I really wish you wouldn't steal... or drink, but I guess that's your choice. What's really bothering you huh?"
"I hate myself..." Bruce hissed jumping from the fence, his usually piercing blue eyes were dull and angry.
Darrian looked worried. "Hey, hey, hey! Come on kid, don't start on that." He didn't move towards Bruce in case it made him feel closed in. "Come on, don't say that. What's wrong, talk to me, please."
Bruce turned around, "I let him kill them!" He snapped trying to fight off the demons in his young mind.
"You let who kill who Bruce?" Darrian asked, worried now.
Bruce swallowed wiping at his eyes, after so long of hiding and guarding it, it was now out, "My parents... I-I couldn't stop him. He was there... her pearls broke... and then he shot them..." A steady stream of tears was now running down his dirty cheeks.
"God Brucie, I'm so sorry." Darrian said sympathetically, even though he couldn't completely relate. Frankly, the thought of someone shooting HIS parents made him smile inwardly, but he squashed that thought right there. He gestured to Bruce. "C'mere kid."
Bruce hesitated momentarily before stepping forward, trying to stop the hiccupping sobs.
Darrian enveloped Bruce in a hug, rubbing his back softly. "It's okay Brucie, it wasn't your fault. Okay? It wasn't your fault at all, it was that other bastard. Don't blame yourself for it anymore, it's alright..."
"I-It should've b-been me." Bruce sobbed burying his face into Darrian's shirt.
"Aw, Bruce, no. You're just a little kid. You're parents wouldn't have blamed you and they wouldn't have wanted you to die either. They'd've wanted you to stay strong and live and look, you have. C'mon kid, don't think like that."
Bruce pulled away, the tears still running down his cheeks but his face was now hard, and his eyes narrowed.
"They'll pay." He hissed in a low voice.
Darrian frowned. "Bruce, I know how you feel. And I'm not gonna try and stop you, cause I know it won't do any good. But just listen... don't let this thing for revenge eat your life up okay?"
Darrian shook his head. At least his thirst for revenge did SOME good... I mean... it coulda been worse he decided.
Bruce slowly eased opened his eyes then sat straight up, "Wha-?" He started having not remembered going to bed or much after his fight with the Scarecrow... oh right, he had been poisoned.
His eyes rolled over to the side of his bed where Darrian was sitting.
Darrian, his head resting on his arm facing away from Bruce, deep in thought and half asleep, didn't realize that Bruce was awake yet.
Bruce raised an eyebrow and gently nudged Darrian, "Hey." He grunted.
Darrian jumped backwards, almost falling onto his arse, but grabbed the bed sheets to stop himself. "Wha!" He yelped.
Bruce watched him fall in amusement.
Darrian sat down so he couldn't fall off and glared at Bruce. "Hi." He said sullenly, sure that Bruce was laughing at him inside.
"Remind me," Bruce started with a smirk, "Was it me who went drinking last night or you?"
Darrian shook his head. "Drinkage did NOT occur. You got poisoned by this stuff from this guy you HAD to go out chasing." Darrian filled him in. "How're you feeling?"
Bruce leaned back against the headboard, "Like I was hit by a truck." He groaned rubbing his temples.
"You had me worried for a bit there." Darrian confessed, worrying his already well-chewed lower lip. "Alfred gave you some stuff, but you were out of it. Nightmares and shit I guess... it was really nasty."
"I know." Bruce grumbled remembering most of the nightmares he had had.
Darrian sighed, stretching. "Do you remember what happened before you came home?"
"I can't really remember the drive back... I was pretty out of it." Bruce grimaced.
"What about before that?"
Bruce frowned slightly, "The last thing I remember before getting back here was Jim hauling the Scarecrow off to Arkham."
Darrian looked confused. "Who hauling the what off to where?" He asked.
"Jim's the Commissioner of Gotham," Bruce explained, "The Scarecrow is one of my many archenemies sworn to kill me or something," He shrugged, "And Arkham is the insane asylum around here."
Darrian twitched. "Niiiice." He said sarcastically. "So.. These enemies of yours.. Many you said?"
"Yea one of...ten... I might be leaving a few out." He sighed rubbing his temples again.
"Wow." Darrian was impressed. "You wanna tell me who they all are, so I know who not to open the door to?" He asked playfully, but with a serious undertone.
Bruce rolled his eyes, "eh, one day." He grumbled climbing out of bed.
Darrian stayed where he was, yawning. "You sure you should be up and about?" he asked, through a mouthful of yawn.
"I've been through worse." Came the muffled reply as Bruce pulled off his costume and tossed it to the floor as he rummaged through his closet for something to wear.
Darrian shook his head. "Honestly, I'm not around to keep you outta trouble and look what happens."
Bruce walked back out of the closet clad in only a pair of black sweatpants, "What?" He asked innocently.
Darrian lay down on his back, his hand against his head like women when they fainted in the old movies. "He's gone to the wrong side, my poor darling child." he said in a mock-falsetto.
Bruce rolled his eyes, "Come on, let's go get some breakfast." He said already through the door.
Darrian yawned again. "Nah.. I'm just gonna..." he crawled up onto Bruce's bed and curled himself up into the duvet. "Sleep here..." he yawned again, then curled up and seemed to fall straight asleep.
Bruce shook his head as he wandered downstairs and into the kitchen finding Alfred up cooking eggs and bacon.
"Morning Alfred." Bruce greeted him as he sat down at the table.
"Morning Master Bruce, good to see you up and well. Where is Darrian?"
"Sleeping."
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A/N: Please review!!